


Kissed by Fire

by targpetsch



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2019-10-22 12:59:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17663099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/targpetsch/pseuds/targpetsch
Summary: Seventeen years after Robert’s Rebellion, Ned, Jaime, and Catelyn disguised the young Daenerys Targaryen into Dyana Waters, a servant in Winterfell. They dyed her hair and gave her a potion to change her eye color. They tried to keep her under wraps until a strange incident and she saves Sansa’s life so they appointed her to be her lady-in-waiting. The two click almost instantly and fall in love. But trouble arrives when Robert rides to the North and Sansa is taken to King’s Landing to marry Joffrey.





	1. Ned Stark

**Author's Note:**

> The way Robert’s Rebellion played out and the events after may be different in this story than in GoT/aSoIaF

  

Ned marches to the capital, King’s Landing. The heir to Aerys Targaryen, Rhaegar Targaryen, has been struck down by the angry and vengeful Robert Baratheon, heir to the Stormlands. Ned’s breaths are unsteady as he rides into the city. His eyes are violated with the sights of ruination. Fire spreads like a beast ransacking a town. His eyes burn from the heat the fire brings. But he keeps on riding, his horse wails from its hooves being burned by the hot rocks and coals on the roads. The Mad King will burn me alive like he did Brandon, when he discovers that Robert has killed Rhaegar, he thinks to himself. He continues to ride anyway. He needs to warn the Lannisters. Ned was never fond of the Lannisters, their golden hair reminded him of lion and their green eyes made him think of snakes who swallow their pray whole.

He takes the Kingsroad to the castle and jumps off his horse. It collapses to the ground, still wailing about its scorched hooves. Ned starts running to the castle’s doors. His armor scratches his body as he moves with through the smoke. He reaches the Iron Throne where King Aerys Targaryen sits upon. The Mad King was there, but so was Jaime Lannister. The Lannister boy had the usual Lannister golden locks and the snake eyes. His armor was golden, most likely made specifically for him, and his longsword was beautiful. The metal has strong iron content which made the color of it black, like dragon bones. The sword was as black as the smoke that trespasses the once blue, cloudless sky.

Ned stares in shock as Jaime raises his sword and pierces the king in the back. Aerys’ black robe was now stained with the red of blood. The lion looks up to the wolf of the North and smiles. Jaime chuckles to himself and takes a seat on the Iron Throne with a deep breath. He lets his bloody sword rest on his lap and looks down at Aerys. Like a lion glaring at his prey. It was quiet for a moment. For a moment it seemed like everything was the way it should have been. The silence in the throne room was calming to Ned. He didn't waste lives but he would not lose sleep over the assassination of Aerys “Mad King” Targaryen. Then there was a snicker. It wasn’t coming from Ned or Jaime, but from the supposedly slain Targaryen. Ned took a step closer even though his mind told him to go back to aid the injured Robert Baratheon. He soon found himself hovering over the king. Jaime clutches his sword, ready to finish what he thought was over. Ned unsheathes his sword and reluctantly bends down to be close to Aerys. The king’s mouth was moving but Ned couldn’t make any words. “Let me finish him,” Jaime insists grabbing his sword, “Move Stark.”

“No,” Ned pushes the almost Kingslayer away, “I need to hear what he wants to say.”

Jaime stumbles back in shock. Jaime thinks sour thoughts as Ned tries to recover words from the dying Targaryen.

Blood spews from Aerys’ mouth. “My-my.” are the only words Ned can figure out. Aerys’ crooked, boney hand that is stained with blood, grabs Ned’s neck in a swift motion. By then Ned can understand what the man is saying. Ned’s longsword drops to the ground with a clank. “My two dragons will avenge me,” Aerys’ indigo eyes pierce into Ned’s brown eyes. Ned gets a good look at him. His silver hair, that is common in the Targaryen line, sticks to his face in sweat. His lips are covered in blood. His wound is slowly killing him. And then he says,

“And they WILL BURN YOU ALL,” the king cackles, letting the dark blood spit out of his mouth.

“Get out of my way you Northern dog,” Jaime shoves Ned away and with one quick motion, slits the throat of the last Targaryen king. Aerys collapses on the steps of the throne. His eyes, the most sickly indigo that Ned has ever seen, becomes frozen in place.

The King of the Seven Kingdoms is dead.

Jaime sheathes his longsword. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply. He can’t hide his smirk, which makes those snake eyes more disturbing to Ned. “I thought all the Targaryen dragons are dead,” he says, running a hand through his golden hair.

Ned can’t turn his eyes away from the sight of Aerys’ body. “The dragons are gone.”

“Then what was this old hag yelling about?”

“The people called him the Mad King for a reason, Lannister.”

However, Ned had some thoughts on what the Mad King said in his final moments. Aerys knew his dragons were dead. If he was referring to his oldest son, then the dragons are gone. Ned gasps in realization, but so has Jaime, “His wife, Rhaella Targaryen, has another son. Viserys wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” Ned agrees and takes off his gloves, “and rumor has it that she was pregnant with another child.” He rubs his hands which is the only comfort he is getting in his current situation.

The sound of rapid footsteps make both of the exhausted men turn their heads. It’s coming from one of the left halls. The steps belong to a woman, most likely a handmaiden. Her blond hair is wet with sweat and her eyes are wide. “THE BABY IS HERE!” She breathes and rests her hands on her knees. She looks up again and gapes in shock seeing the king lie dead by his former throne. Ned and Jaime stare in confusion as she stumbles in the throne room. Before Ned can console her, she was out of the castle.

“What was she yelling about? What baby?” Jaime rolls his eyes. Even for a Kingslayer, he gets tired of the Targaryens.

Ned ignores him and starts moving toward the direction the handmaiden was coming from. It leads him to one of the halls that lead to the infirmaries. The only light was from a dimly lit torch hanging from the brown walls. Just like rubbing his hands, Ned found the light in the darkness very comforting and intriguing. He touches the knob on the door and presses his ear to it. He hears a noise, cries. Cries of a child fills his ears. Ned doesn’t have any children, not yet anyway. He conceived with his new wife, Catelyn Tully of Riverrun, the day before Robert waged war against Rhaegar. The sound of a child crying is something he would have to get used to soon. He opens the door. And the sight will be etched into his mind until the day he dies.

The young Targaryen boy, Viserys, was on the floor. His arms and upper body were soaked in blood, but it wasn’t his. In his arms he was a baby. A naked baby, not even wrapped in a birthing cloth, was calmly resting in his arms. He throws his head back and yells in agony. But he wasn’t in pain, not physical pain. On the bed next to him, was a body. The knees were elevated, like when a woman is giving birth. Ned takes a closer look. It was a woman with the Targaryen hair of silver. Her eyes are still, but he can make out the lilac in her eyes. She wore a white knit robe that’s dirtied with her blood from labor near her womb. “Sh-she is...gone,” Viserys says. You can’t make out the lilac in his eyes because they are filled with hot tears.

“I thought we were done with the Targaryens,” a snake-like voice hisses from behind Ned. He doesn’t need to look to know it’s Jaime Lannister, “The cunts always come back.”

Ned hears Jaime start to unsheathe his sword, but Ned is quicker even in his age. Jaime hadn’t even gotten his entire sword out of its covering before Ned had his longsword against his neck. Ned despised the Lannister’s green eyes. Only lies and death hide behind those eyes, but he was not going to let this lion have more Targaryen prey.

“The people of the Seven Kingdoms will smile and bow at the feet of Jaime Lannister,” his nose is flaring and he presses the blade until he leaves a mark, “and behind your back they will call you Kingslayer. They will love you for killing the Mad King, but if you murder two innocent children who paid for their fathers’ crimes, you will be feared. And I am aware that you Lannisters prefer to be feared than respected, but one day you will realize that loyalty from your subjects should come from respect not from fear.”

Jaime was afraid, it was evident in his eyes. But his pride took over him like a typical Lannister, “Is there a point to this you Northern dog?”

“If you take one step towards these children, if you breathe near them, I will cut your throat,” Jaime was afraid now, “With honor.”

Ned held the blade firm. Jaime softens his face and nods. Scaring a lion of a Lannister is difficult, but Ned managed to do it. If Ned was determined to do something, even if it was protecting two children that Robert will want to kill, he will do it. Jaime places his sword in its sheath as well as Ned. Ned turns away from Jaime and takes careful strides towards Viserys who is staring at the two men, choking on his own spit. His mouth quivers, he wants to cry again. But he feels no tears coming out of his eyes. Ned can see a little bit of the lilac in his eyes as they clear up. A much more pleasant sight than the dark indigo of Viserys’ late father.

“I am Eddard Stark of Winterfell,” Ned says raising his hands a bit to comfort the boy, “I am here to protect you from those who wish to harm you and your brother.” He points at the baby who manages to sleep through all of this death and destruction.

Viserys snorts, “My mother died giving birth to this wretched creature,” he shoves the sleeping child into Ned’s arms. He stumbles back a bit, “I don’t want her in my life.”

Ned looks down at the baby and realizes it’s a girl. She has a few strands of silver hair clinging to her small forehead. Blood covers her entire body, but it seems to keep her warm, like a blanket. Ned gently shakes the baby, he needs to know if the girl is still alive. And she is, her nose wiggles and her eyes flutter open revealing two violet gemstones. She stretches her arms and yawns without a care in the world.

“You want to help them escape,” Jaime says hovering over Rhaella with his hands over her eyelids which he closed, “That’s very honorable of you. But how are you going to get past Robert and his killers. He will hire every killer in all of the Seven Kingdoms to kill the last two Targaryens.”

Those words trigger more tears within Viserys and he starts to wail again. He starts grabbing at his hair with his bloodied hands. Silver and blood don’t mix well.

Ned only looks at the boy, not knowing how to comfort a child. “I want to get them to the North, there I will protect them. I will give them disguises, but I will need your help to do it.”

Ned knew asking a Lannister for a favor was like digging himself an early grave. However, he needed to protect these children by all means necessary. Winterfell is the ancestral home of House Stark and now it will be the safe house for the last Targaryens. He didn’t expect Jaime to help but was shocked when Jaime whispered a simple “Okay.”

“What is your sister’s name?” Ned asks Viserys who is still ripping his hair out.

“My mother could have told me she loved me,” Viserys was angry at this point, “But she used her last dying breath to say the name of that beast that killed her.” He points with his finger at the girl who unknowingly fell asleep again.

“Seven hells,” Jaime breathes in annoyance, “What is her name?”

Viserys looks at her with fatal eyes, “Daenerys.”


	2. Sansa Stark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa’s attends Arya’s birthday feast and something goes awry...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here are the ages of the Dyana (Dany) and the Stark children for clarification:   
> Dany - 17   
> Robb and Sansa are twins (Robb is older): both are 16   
> Jon: 17  
> Arya: 14   
> Bran: 11   
> Rickon: 6   
> Also, Sansa is a closeted lesbian (:

Sansa sits on the edge of her canopy bed and hums to herself as she finishes the last touches of Arya’s birthday gift. Going against her sister’s wishes, Sansa sewed her hoyden sister a pretty little blue dress that would fit her petite body. Sansa brushes the excess string off the dress and places it on her silk sheets. She tucks her hair behind her ears and smiles. She’s always enjoyed giving gifts and making people little trinkets to keep. When the Starks went into town to greet the Northerners, she would steal some bread from the kitchen beforehand and give it to the orphans. Sansa “ _the Giver_ ” Stark is what they called her. She truly is the most generous Stark.

There was a light knock on the door. “May I enter Lady Stark, this is your handmaiden?”

She quickly hid the dress under her bed cover. “You may enter Kyra.” And in came the handmaiden. Kyra, a sweet girl of 19, carried Sansa’s dresses on her shoulder and held a basket in her hands.

“Lady Catelyn Stark said it is time to prepare for the feast.” She gave Sansa a soft smile.

Kyra helped Sansa slip into the light purple gown. Catelyn wanted her to wear the darker colored dresses, but Sansa refused and always chose the lighter ones. Kyra dabbed cinnamon on her collarbone, thighs, and in between her breasts. “It gives you more sex appeal,” Kyra claims, “All the boys will notice you.”

But Sansa didn’t want the boys to notice her. Kyra has spoken about the many times her lover has kissed her and how it made her feel. However, Sansa didn’t want that, not with a boy anyway. Her true feelings have been kept hidden since she was about 12 years of age. Her parents expected her to be married to a man. To live the rest of her life with a man. And she’ll do it, she’ll do it for her family’s honor.

Kyra gave Sansa two crown braids and braided in small pearls into them. She combed out the tangles in her hair and ran through her hair with olive oil. A few minutes later, Sansa was all set for the feast. While Kyra was packing the materials away, Sansa stood in front of the mirror. Her hands caressed her breasts and her upper body. I do smell nice. She noticed in the reflection that her handmaiden was hesitant to leave. Sansa turned around and asked her what’s wrong.

“Your mother wants to know if you’ve decided on a lady-in-waiting...” Sansa’s heart dropped.

Catelyn first asked her about having a lady-in-waiting a few weeks ago and Sansa declined almost immediately. Her mother set up meetings with a few lesser lords’ daughters, some trueborns, some bastards. But Sansa rejected all of them without question. Mother could never know of my true feelings for girls, not ever. Even if it kills me. And she knew being close to a young woman would bring those forbidden feelings out.

“I have not,” Sansa turns back to the mirror, “And I don’t want one.”

 

***

 

Ned rises from his seat and claps his hands twice which silenced the room. Sansa was currently in the Banquet Hall sitting at the High Table along with the rest of her family: her older twin, Robb, her bastard brother, Jon, her parents, and her younger siblings, Bran and Rickon. Arya was waiting outside the hall waiting to be introduced as she is the most important guest for today is her 14th birthday.

“And now for the special guest tonight,” Ned smiles proudly, “My daughter, Arya Stark of Winterfell.” The trumpets sounded. The hall erupted in applause as the doors open revealing a stunning, yet irritated Arya. She was wearing a tight, pink gown that was too small for her body. Her hair was loosely tied in ribbons. And poor Arya looked miserable.

But that didn’t stop her siblings from bursting out laughing.

Jon was the first to laugh. He clenches his stomach and throws his head back. The rest of the Stark boys followed after. Sansa tried her best to be poise and respectful, but seeing her sister in a dress for the first time in years caused her to let out some giggles which she tried to hide by covering her mouth with a cloth. Catelyn nudges her and glares at the boys and they quickly stopped. They looked at Arya who was now taking her seat at the High Table between Ned and Cat. She gave her siblings a look that says, expect horse shit in your pillows tonight.

And the feast began. 

The servants carried out a whole array of food that could feed everyone in the Seven Kingdoms. On the menu was a good roast, beef stew, veal tart with cream, pork pie, pork sausages, stuffed cabbage, stuffed piglet, parsnip pie and more of Arya’s favorite meals. Arya, lacking proper manners, scooped the pork pie with her hands on to her plate and wiped her hands on her dress. She ignored her mother’s pleas and continued eating with her hands. Sansa nearly gagged and moved the pork pie dish to the side with her fork and cut a piece of the stuffed piglet.

It didn’t seem long into the feast before Cat asked Sansa why she hasn’t chosen a lady-in-waiting.

“I don’t need one, Mother,” Sansa dabbed the corners of her mouth, “I’m almost 18 years of age I can take care of myself.”

Cat clenched her mouth together, which accentuates her defined cheekbones. “A lady-in-waiting is a personal assistant to you. You’ll be queen one day and marry Joffrey Baratheon, and you’ll need someone, preferably with noble blood, to help you in court. Men can be ruthless in politics and you’ll need a woman there to ease the tension.”

I’m more worried about falling in love with her, than men in court, Sansa thought.

Sansa breathes heavily and picked at her parsnip pie. Cat rubs her back and gives her a light kiss on her forehead.

“I’m sorry, my sweet girl,” she smiles at her eldest daughter, “I just want what’s best for you.”

Sansa let out a sigh of relief. She knew her mother only wanted what is best for her and she knew when she overstepped her boundaries.

“I won’t ask you about a lady-in-waiting for-”

“Forever?!” Sansa looked up at her with wide eyes.

Cat let out a chuckle, “No, for the rest of the week.”

Sansa smiled.

Then the servants brought out dessert - Arya’s favorite meal. They brought out all her favorites: almond pudding, ginger bread, bread pudding, apple tarts, and wine custard. But no lemon cakes. Sansa didn’t care for the other sweets and pastries as long as she had her lemon cakes. She took a scoop of the almond pudding. She ate in silence as her brothers talk about swords and fighting and other things boys do. Her mother went to the powder room, so she didn’t have anyone to talk to about sewing, which was her favorite thing to do to past time.

There was a light tap on her shoulder. She was startled and looked back. There was a servant there holding a white cloth. He was sweating nervously and was fidgeting.

“M-May I help you?” Sansa didn’t know to say.

“I see that you’re missing lemon cakes from the dishes,” he licks his lips, “I snuck some out from the kitchen just for you Lady Sansa.” He shoves the package into her hands and scurried away. She whispers a thank you to him and opens the cloth. The sweet smell of lemon hits her nostrils and she smiles. She breaks a piece of the cake and puts it in her mouth. But when she swallowed it, she felt her whole throat go up in flames.

She collapsed on to the ground and scratched at her neck, trying to get the burning sensation to stop. She heard a scream from the crowd and felt a pair of hands on her shoulders. Her father was above her trying to figure out what was wrong with her. “Sansa,” he lifts her upper body up and cradles her in his arms, “What’s happening?!”

She couldn’t make out what was happening to her but she knew what was in the lemon cakes, “P-Poison.”

“GET THE NURSE!” He commanded to the nearest servant. The Banquet Hall was in a panic now. People were tripping over themselves and spitting out any food or beverage they had in their mouths. Robb and Jon ran to the infirmary as fast as they can. But Arya stayed and picked up the lemon cake. Her eyes filled with tears as she watches her sister nearly die in pain.

The poison had gone into Sansa’s eyes now. Her eyelids were swollen shut and she couldn’t see her father anymore which was the only source of comfort she had at the moment. He squeezed her hand and whispered that she’ll be okay. But she knew she wasn’t. She could hear Bran and Rickon sob loudly. They were holding each other, feeling useless that they couldn’t do anything.

She felt something on her lips. A severely bitter liquid was forced down her throat and she arched her back.

“Everything will be all right, Lady Sansa.” Sansa heard a soothing, womanly voice.

And then all she saw was darkness.

 

 


	3. Dyana I

Lord Eddard and Lady Catelyn Stark flustered around Dyana in the servants’ kitchen. Lady Sansa had just been attacked by one of the servants and the guards can’t seem to locate them.

“Now Diana,” Lord Eddard pulls up a wooden chair in front of Dyana, “Tell us what happened again.”

Dyana licked her lips. “Well, a few of the servants were gathered around-”

“Which ones?” the lord interrupted her.

“Ned please, she’s trying to tell the story as best she can.” Lady Catelyn rested her hands on his shoulders to calm him down. And she gave Dyana a warm smile. Dyana noticed that Lady Catelyn’s bandage need changing. Apparently, one of the servants whacked her in the head before poisoning Sansa.

“It was Carn, Emilar, Arby, Natari, and Ethon. A few hours before the ceremony, I saw them together in the servants’ common room. They were whispering to each other. I didn’t pay any mind to them because I still had chores to do.”

Dyana squirmed in her chair.

“When you, my lord, announced Lady Arya’s entrance, that was when I heard Carn and Natari talk about poisoning Lady Sansa. I didn’t hear much, I was hiding behind the door so they wouldn’t see me,” she sighed, “They said that the bane of wolf is already in the lemon cake batter, ready to bake.”

“Bane of wolf?” Lady Catelyn’s forehead creased.

“Wolfsbane,” Lord Eddard responds, “That poison could kill a dire wolf with the root alone.”

“Then a few moments later, Emilar and Ethon came in through the side door. One of them, I can’t remember who, was frantic. They said that Lady Catelyn had saw them with the Wolfsbane cure, so they attacked her.” Lord Eddard grabs his wife’s hand that’s still on his shoulder and kisses it.

“That’s when Arby caught me eavesdropping and pushed me into the room. They tied me to one of the chairs and Carn left to take the cakes out the oven. And Ethon put the cure in his pocket.”

Dyana rubs her wrists. The rope left a burn that she knew would have her sore for days.

“What they didn’t know was that I kept a small dagger in my pocket-”

“You keep a dagger with you?” Lady Cat seemed confused.

“I don’t wish to harm anyone, but the other boy servants can get a little touchy with us girls.”

The lady pursed her lips.

“I was able to cut myself loose, but only after Carn came back saying he gave Lady Sansa the lemon cakes. I knew I had to do something. So in a split second I stabbed Ethon in his leg and I grabbed the cure and I ran to the Banquet Hall as fast as I could.” She gulped.

“And then you gave Sansa the cure, that saved her life.” Lord Ned sat back in his chair.

“Thank you, Dyana.” Lady Catelyn left her husband and embraced her. Dyana never had a motherly figure in her life, but her lady Catelyn was always there for her. When she had her first bleed, it was Lady Cat that helped her and talked to her about feminine things. She was never this close to any of the other servants, just Dyana and her older brother, Vern. Dyana accepted her hug.

“Who would be brazen enough to attack a Stark in our own home?” Lord Ned was furious. He had already sent every guard not watching Sansa, to hunt down the traitors.

“Did the servants say anything about a reward? Perhaps someone paid them? Or offered them gold?” Catelyn asked Dyana. She rubbed her back gently. Lady Cat never liked seeing a child uncomfortable.

“I’m not sure,” Dyana answered honestly, “One of them did say that a man with gold teeth confronted them at The Last Pie Tavern in the village. I didn’t hear much after they tied me up though.”

The husband and wife shared a look. They were aware that The Last Pie Tavern was a popular spot for their servants. Their servants get pregnant there and some have even been killed there. But now someone there has been recruiting servants to kill Starks.

“Thank you for saving my daughter’s life,” Lord Ned placed a firm hand on her shoulder, “Both me and Catelyn owe a great debt to you.”

 

***

 

The next morning, all the servants went back to doing their chores. The guards were still patrolling the servants’ areas. They haven’t caught the five traitorous servants yet. But they didn’t want panic to spread throughout the castle, so the other servants continued to work. That didn’t stop the rumors though.

“I heard Lady Sansa is paralyzed from the neck down.”

“Apparently, the Starks have already started the funeral arrangements.”

“I heard that Sansa lost her ability to speak.”

“Wolfsbane can cause infertility, I think.”

Dyana couldn’t seem to get away from the rumors. She couldn’t sleep that night either. Every time she would close her eyes she dreamt of Lady Sansa. The site of Sansa dying from the poison was etched into her memory. She didn’t know her very well but she’s only heard kind things about her. When Dyana would go out to the village to relax, she would hear stories of Sansa “ _the Giver_ ” Stark. She would listen to stories of the people about Lady Sansa. The people couldn’t lose someone that pure, she thought.

Dyana couldn’t bear to listen to the false truths circling around Lady Sansa, so she ate in her quarters. That’s against the new rules set in place by Winterfell’s guards but she thought as long as she could finish her soup and bread before the next round of guards she won’t be caught.

Then the Captain of the guards, Ser Jory Cassel, stormed into her room. Beside him were his men.

“I only came here to eat my food.” Dyana stood up and the bowl spilled on the wooden floor. She put her hands up. But the men didn’t have their swords out.

“Are you Dyana Waters?” Ser Jory Cassel asked while taking his helm off.

“Yes, ser.”

“Lord Stark requests your presence.”

Dyana nodded and went with the men, not picking up her bowl. She had no idea where they were going but she followed in silence.

They walked through the North Gate and into this large room with glass walls. The ground was filled with green - plants, fruits, vegetables. The castle was built over natural hot springs to keep it warm during harsh winters, and this was the warmest place in the castle. She felt comfortable here.

Dyana found herself wandering off into the center of the glass garden. Her hands caressed the strawberries. They were plump and round. She gently picked one from the bush and put it to her lips. The scent filled her nostrils. A very sweet smell. She took a bite and the juices flowed onto her tongue. She smirked.

“Highgarden has fields of the most flavorful fruits.” Lord Stark’s voice interrupted her tasting. Dyana jumped and quickly wiped her mouth and hid the strawberry in her pocket. She hadn’t heard him come in. Next to him was Lady Catelyn Stark, and surprisingly Lady Sansa. Lady Sansa stood tall with her chin raised, like her lady mother. Her hair was pinned back and she had her hands place in front of her. It’s like the poison was never in her body.

Dyana curtsied.

“Thank you, Dyana,” Lady Sansa spoke, “For saving my life.” She curtsied back and gave her a smile.

“You’re welcome, my lady.”

Dyana found herself staring at her. She noticed the little details about her. She has her mother’s cheekbones. And her father’s lips. She has very pink lips.

“We are gathered here in the glass garden because I don’t know who to trust in this castle,” Lord Ned takes off his gloves and puts them in his coat pocket, “My servants tried to kill my daughter and they are nowhere to be found.” He turns to his daughter, who’s fighting back tears, and strokes her cheek.

Dyana didn’t know what to say. So she just stood there.

“Everything that is about to be said in this room stays here,” Lady Catelyn commands the room instantly, “Ser Jory Cassel and his men have all been accounted for, so do you, Dyana Waters, sweat to not utter a word spoken in this room?”

“Yes, my lady.” Dyana answered. She had no idea what she was getting herself in to. But she would be always loyal to the Starks, especially to Lady Cat.

“Our men managed to track down the man from the tavern, after several hours of...interrogation, he admitted that he was paid to hire to the servants from the Lannisters.” Lady Cat said.

“For your own protection and Sansa’s, the reason why the Lannisters targeted one of us will be kept secret,” Lord Stark spoke again, “But Robert Baratheon is riding to the North and we cannot afford to have Sansa alone with any of the Lannisters.”

Dyana stayed out of politics as best she could, but she knew, like everyone else, that Robert Baratheon is King of the Seven Kingdoms and he is married to Cersei Lannister and they have three children.

“Why is he coming here?” Dyana asked.

“To see if I’m a perfect match for Joffrey Baratheon, the eldest son of King Robert and Queen Cersei.” Sansa responded. She wiped her palms on her gown, nervously.

“And if Robert deems Sansa worthy enough to marry his son, then she’ll be taken back to King’s Landing.” Lady Cat said with discontent.

“But only I can accompany her on the trip,” Lord Stark stated, “Robert expects me to be on his council.”

“I’m sorry, Lord Stark, but why are you telling me all this?” Dyana took a step back. She lived her life a simple servant, she didn’t want to get involved in the politics with stags, lions, and wolves.

The Starks shared a look.

“I need you to pose as my lady-in-waiting when we’re in court.” Lady Sansa breathes heavily.

Dyana knew what a lady-in-waiting was, but she never thought she was going to be one. Then Lady Cat spoke again.

“You have already proven your loyalty to us when you saved our daughter, Dyana. Now we need you to make sure she stays safe at King’s Landing.”

“W-What about my brother, Vern?” Dyana bites her nails nervously.

“The guards will make sure he’s safe and as much as he knows, you’ll be in court with Lady Sansa.”

Dyana spent her whole life here with her brother. Her father was a lord who died during Robert’s Rebellion and Lord Stark took them in. She has a great respect for them. So she’ll do her duty, and protect Lady Sansa.

Lord Ned broke the silence, “Do you agree to this? To being Sansa’s lady-in-waiting?”

Dyana brushed the hair out of her face, “Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dyana has the surname Waters because she was born in the Crownlands, where King’s Landing is.


	4. Sansa II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa gets her dire wolf.

Sansa watched her brothers practice their sword fighting from her bedroom window. She plays with the tip of her hair and sighs. She had taken a break from sewing. She’d been sewing excessively for the past week ever since the assassination attempt. She sewed everything and anything. She sewed hats, gloves, a few small dresses. She even sewed a baby’s gown for her guard’s newborn daughter. She knew it was only a matter of time where she would have to put her sewing kit away for good and go to King’s Landing.

“Lady Sansa,” her guard that was standing by the door called for her, “Lady Dyana Waters is here.” He opens the door, revealing a dressed-up, clean Dyana. The last time Sansa saw her was in the glass garden, wearing servant scrubs. Now, Dyana was wearing one of Sansa’s gowns that fit her perfectly. Her black hair had been cleaned and oiled and is braided, just like Sansa’s. Sansa admired Dyana’s features for a moment. Her plump lips look soft. And her eyes look too blue to be real.

“Where do you want me, my lady?” Dyana asks after curtsying.

“You can sit next to me,” Sansa taps the empty place on the window seat bench, “Also, you don’t have to curtsy or call me ‘lady’ when we’re alone.”

Dyana smiles and quietly takes a seat next to Sansa.

“I can’t thank you enough for saving me,” Sansa tells Dyana with tears in her eyes, “I owe you my life.” It wasn’t in Sansa’s character for her to never repay someone back. Once in the village, a young girl gave her shoes after Sansa had torn hers. And Sansa spent a month looking for her to give her a new pair of shoes.

She didn’t know how to address Dyana. Sansa was never put in this situation before. No one has ever tried to kill her before. Except for the Lannisters.

“I did my duty,” Dyana replied, “No need to swear your life to me.”

“It’s the guards’ duty to protect and save me,” Sansa corrected her, “Your duty is, well, was to do chores around the castle.” Dyana played with her nails, not knowing what to say.

It had been a week since the conversation in the glass garden. And Robert Baratheon and his family are arriving today in the evening. Catelyn is already training Dyana to be Sansa’s lady-in-waiting. Now all they could do is wait. Wait for Sansa to come face-to-face with the people who want her dead.

Sansa broke the silence, “You look beautiful, Dyana.” She immediately blushes and mentally slaps herself for it.

“Thank you, you look wonderful as well.” Dyana smiled. The two girls laugh at the sudden awkwardness between them.

“Hello sweet sister,” Robb bursts through the door which startles the girls, “How are you this fine morning?” He was covered in sweat and he carried a sick stench with him. Sansa gagged.

“Ugh, Robb please go you smell like your horse.” Sansa tried to hide her giggles. She glances at Dyana whose eyes are wide.

“I’m going to ignore that and invite you to come horse riding with us.” He gives her a cheeky grin and places his hand on his hip.

Normally, Sansa would decline his offer. However, seeing how this could be the last time she sees her older twin brother or any of her brothers, she accepted. She enjoyed nature every now and then.

“I’ll go, as long as my lady-in-waiting can ride with us.”

Before Dyana can protest, Robb was already out the door.

 

***

 

Nature has always been therapeutic for Sansa. Especially during the winter, when she would build Winterfell in the snow. And she would have snowball fights with her siblings. All was good then.

The air brushes the hair out of her face. She rides the horse with power through the woods. Her gloved hands grip the reins as the horse runs through the woods. She slightly tugged on the reins and the horse began to stop. Her brothers, Robb and Jon, came to a stop as well. But Dyana was nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s that lady of yours?” Jon asks, scratching his head. Robb just shrugs. About a minute later, Dyana came with her horse. Well, her upper body was attached to the horse’s neck and she was practically choking the horse with her seemingly strong grip. The Stark siblings looked perplexed.

Dyana slowly lifted herself off the horse’s neck and gulped. Her hair was sticking to her face in sweat and she huffed as if she was out of breath. She let go of the reins. “If it’s all right with you, my lady,” she slid off the horse and barely landed on her own two feet, “I’m just going to walk the rest of the way.” Sansa chuckled and got off her horse too. The boys followed suit. They walked to the riverbank to freshen up. Robb and Jon, being the childish teenagers that they are, played in the water and splashed some onto the ladies. Sansa kicked the water as she carried her dress up. Jon wrapped his arms around her and twirled her around. Robb made jokes as they rested on the riverbank.

Then they heard a faint howl. A wolf’s howl.

“Is that what I think it is?” Robb asked curiously. The Stark kids followed the noise, with Dyana treading behind. That’s when they saw the wolf. A dire wolf had been gashed open by an antler. The antler of a stag. Her babies were licking her wound and nibbling off piece of flesh from her. Robb counted five wolf pups.

“Oh, they’re so cute,” Sansa exclaimed, “I want one!” She scurried over to the pups and gently picked up the white one with a bit of grey on its back. She wiped off some of the blood with her sleeve.

“There’s five, one for each of the Stark children.” Robb pointed out and selected the pup that had gray all over its fur. Dyana heard a whimper from behind the mother wolf. She walked over to the noise and saw a ghostly white wolf pup trying to get out of the river. She picked it up, and noticed the blood red eyes it had.

“There’s another one, my lord,” she holds it up, “An albino wolf.”

Jon grabs the pup from her, “He won’t live that long, but I’ll take care of him.”

Sansa squealed with joy. This is the happiest she’s been since the attempt on her life. She caressed the little wolf with her hands.

“My lady-” Dyana begins to speak.

But Sansa interrupts, “Lady, that’s what I’ll call her.”

“What a sweet name, for a sweet little thing.” A voice from the woods calls out. The voice reveals itself to be Carn, one of the servants who tried to kill Sansa.

The band of servants come from the trees and onto the riverbank. Ethon and Arby swerve behind them into the river. They were holding spears or daggers. They were surrounded.

“T-These are the servants who tried to kill Lady Sansa.” Dyana cries out.

The color on Sansa’s face vanished and whatever joy she felt disappeared. Dyana rushes over to Sansa and grabs her arms and pulls her closer to her. Sansa wouldn’t let go of the pup.

Robb and Jon drop the pups and draw their swords.

“You tried to murder my sister, a Stark of Winterfell,” Robb grasps his sword, “And for that you will die.”

“No, she will die,” Emilar spoke with a dagger in each hand, “And you get to watch the blood flow from her neck.”

He lunges for Sansa. He raises his dagger in the air but Dyana shoves Sansa away and onto the ground. The daggers scrape Dyana’s shoulder before she collapsed on the riverbank. The others attacked too. Arby and Ethon tried to ram their spears into Jon but he was quicker than them. He dodged their jabs and used his sword to block their blades. Robb was occupied with holding Carn and Natari off. They were both armed with daggers, but they were still no match for Robb. He was a skilled swordsman, as well as Jon, they both learned from their father how to fight.

Emilar continued to slash at Sansa. Dyana grabbed Sansa by the arm and pulled her up. Sansa had tears in her eyes and a pup cradled into her chest. The girls tried to run but Emilar was quicker. He ripped Dyana’s hand from Sansa and pushed her into the rocky ground. Emilar turned to Sansa who tried to turn and run but was pushed against a tree. The tree tore the back of her dress and poked her bare back. Lady was still in her arms, she refused to let go. One of his dagger’s fell. Emilar held her in place with his forearm pressing against her chest, squeezing the pup deeply into Sansa’s chest. He raised his dagger. And Sansa let out a scream.

Emilar’s neck was sliced open in a flash. He scratched at his open neck as the blood flowed onto Sansa and her dire wolf. Sansa stepped aside, then he collapsed on the ground. Dead.

“Lady Sansa!” Dyana cries out again to her. Sansa looks at her and sees the bloodied dagger fall from her hand. Dyana grabs Sansa before Sansa falls. Sansa’s breathing begins to get heavier and heavier. The tears flowed down her face as she choked a little.

And once again, Sansa succumbs to the darkness.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to include Lady into the story because she’s a big part of Sansa (and I won’t kill her off!)


	5. Dyana II

Dyana gently tugs on Lady’s ears. She wipes the damp pup with a rag from the servants’ quarters. The bath water, now saturated with blood, coats the floor. It’s a bit sticky. She reaches over to her bed to change rags and Lady rubs her nose on Dyana’s wrapped wound. She flinches a little at the touch of the pup’s wet nose, then smiles. The nurse said the cut wasn’t deep and shouldn’t leave a scar.

“Sansa is going to need you,” Dyana stares into wolf’s eyes, “Now that the king is here.”

Robert Baratheon had arrived at Winterfell about half an hour after Sansa found Lady. It was his Kingsguard, along with Lord Eddard’s guards, that intervened in the fight between Sansa’s assassins and the Stark boys. Their arrows entered the assassins’ skull, and they died. They died at the riverbank with their blood polluting the waters. Sansa was safe and unharmed for the most part. A few scratches marked her back, but the nurse said she’ll be fine. That’s what Dyana was told when she tried seeing Sansa in the infirmary.

She did her duty, she protected her. She killed for her. She had never killed anyone before. The thought of even taking a life, even that of a killer’s, made her shudder. The close she’d ever been to killing was when she pushed one of the servant boys who grabbed her breasts into a table. The blood spewed from his head, but he lived. Emilar didn’t.

The knock on the door disrupted Dyana’s dark thoughts. It was Robb. He stood there silent for a few moments.

“Your presence is requested in the Great Hall, Lady Dyana.” Robb spoke, softly. He didn’t have the youthful exuberance he carried a few hours ago. He was wearing clean clothes. His old ones were probably stained with blood.

Dyana picked at her bloodied nails, “Can I have a few minutes to change, my lord?”

Robb nodded, “You’ve earned the right to call me Robb.”

 

***

 

“I just want to say thank you, on behalf of my family.” Robb said to Dyana. They were walking to the Great Hall, the same place that Sansa had been poisoned.

He didn’t have to say what he was thankful for. She knew what he was talking about. Dyana gave him a nod and they arrived. The servants opened the doors.

The room was filled with light. The chandeliers glistened above them. The smell of freshly braised meat entered their nostrils. Robert Baratheon sat at the High Table. Next to him was his wife, Cersei Lannister. Her golden locks were full and reached passed her shoulders. Her green eyes pierced Dyana’s soul. She was beautiful, but Dyana remembered that her family is connected to Sansa’s assassination attempts. Next to her was Joffrey Baratheon. He had his mother’s hair and eyes. Not his father’s black hair and blue eyes.

Sansa has to marry this boy? He’s ugly!

The Starks gathered around the Low Table, facing the royal family.

“I have fetched Lady Sansa’s lady-in-waiting, Your Grace,” Robb motions to Dyana, “She saved my sister’s life. Twice.”

King Robert gave her a smile. He had some mutton in his teeth. “Well if it isn’t the lady of the hour. What’s your name?”

Dyana cleared her throat before speaking to sound more proper. “My name is Dyana Waters, Your Grace.”

“Waters?” The king scoffed, “A highborn bastard saved a highborn trueborn. Isn’t that ironic?” He laughs drunkenly and takes a gulp of his drink. Queen Cersei was now staring at her. She perked her eyebrows up and took a swig of her drink as well.

“Anyway,” King Robert states, “Lets eat!”

There was an empty seat next to Sansa. Dyana slid in next to her. Sansa smiled. She places a hand on Dyana’s shoulder. “Thank you so much, Dyana.” She smiles. Dyana noticed a small bruise on her cheekbone. She gently touches it, rubs it a little. Sansa just stares at her while she caresses her face.

Someone clears their throat and the girls pull away from each other.

The servants bring out an array of food. The king claps drunkenly as they rest the food in front of him. They also bought out food and meats for the Starks and Dyana. They placed venison, fish, roast chicken, beans, brown bread, and more delights down in front of them. Dyana wasn’t used to having this much food. She usually ate soup and bread. Sometimes when there were leftovers from a feast the Starks hosted, she’ll sneak in some honeyed chicken into her pocket, wrapped in cloth that she’ll save for her and her brother.

Vern, she thought, I hope he’s okay.

“Try the smoked salmon.” Sansa nudged her with her elbow. There was already food on her plate.

And so she did. Dyana ate, and ate, like she never did before. The smoked salmon was her favorite. The servants even had to smoke another fish for her. Sansa couldn’t help but snicker at her.

“Psst, Sansa,” Catelyn whispered to Sansa, “Introduce yourself and Dyana to the queen. It would be rude not to.” She beckoned to Cersei who was eating her meal elegantly, while her plaguy husband ate with his fat fingers.

“Come on, Dyana,” Sansa grasps Dyana’s hand and they stride over to the queen. Cersei notices them and smirks.

“What can I do for you, my loves?” She drinks from her goblet.

“I wanted to introduce myself and my lady-in-waiting.” Sansa said. She curtsies. Dyana follows suit.

Cersei looks at Dyana and tilts her head. “You curtsy well.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.” Dyana holds her head up and straightens her back. She must not look weak in front of a Lannister.

“Where did you get that dress? Did you make it?” Cersei’s attention was now at Sansa again.

“Yes I did, Your Grace, I love sewing.” Sansa plasters a smile on her face.

Cersei lets out a small laugh, “You’ll have to make me a dress sometime, little dove.”

She glances down occasionally during their conversation.

After exchanging a few more words, they sit back down. Dyana exhales. Sansa tightens her grip on her hand momentarily and loosens it.

They didn’t realize that they never let go of each other’s hands.

Sansa pulled her hand away and drank her water awkwardly.

After the servants took away the left over food from the table, they brought out desserts.

Dyana eyed the ginger bread greedily. She remembers seeing the kitchen bakers take the bread fresh out of the fire oven. The smell made her mouth water, but she didn’t have the luxury of every trying it. That was until today.

She placed a slice of the bread on her plate. Before she could take a bite, however, Prince Joffrey spoke.

“Lady Dyana,” the prince announces, “Come here.”

Dyana hides her annoyance and walks over to the High Table. She stands in front of him. She could feel Sansa’s eyes on her. The whole table was silent.

“You saved the lady who may be my wife someday,” he flashes a quick smile to Sansa, “And for that I grant you three wishes. Name anything you want and you’ll have it.”

“Three, Your Grace?” Dyana was confused now.

“You saved Lady Sansa’s life twice, that’s two wishes, and you still stayed by her side even though it’s dangerous. I appreciate loyalty, and for that you get another wish.” There was a few gasps coming from the table behind her.

Dyana’s smile was genuine, “Thank you, Your Grace.”

“So, what will it be my lady?” Joffrey lays back in his chair. But his mother rests her elbows on the table, eager to hear what the lady-in-waiting wishes for.

Dyana had to think really quickly about what she wanted. She definitely wanted to use one of those wishes for her brother.

“My brother, Vern,” Dyana keeps her posture, “He’s a servant here as well, but he’s always wanted to visit the Crownlands, we haven’t been there since we were born, perhaps sometime in the summer he can come visit me.”

Joffrey thinks for a moment. “We can certainly extend the invitation to my wedding to your brother, and I’ll make sure he gets there safely.”

“Thank you,” Dyana thinks for a moment, “When my service as Lady Sansa’s lady-in-waiting is over, I would like to have my own cottage, outside of town with a full grown garden. I want my brother and I to live out the rest of our days in peace.”

“Consider it done,” Joffrey traces the rim of his goblet with his finger, “One more wish.”

Dyana turned around. The Starks were gaping at her, especially Sansa. Their eyes met. They hadn’t known each other for long, but Dyana knew Sansa shouldn’t be alone when her service ends. She would have her family, but she needed more.

“Lady.” Dyana mumbles.

“Speak up.” Joffrey demands.

“My last wish is for Sansa to bring her wolf with her to King’s Landing,” she paused for a moment, “I want all the Starks to bring their direwolves when they come to visit King’s Landing.”

There’s a little fast clap from behind her. Probably Arya.

Joffrey gives her another smirk, a little more sinister this time, “Consider it done, Lady Dyana Waters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Great Hall and the Banquet Hall are the same thing. I called the room the Banquet Hall in Sansa’s first chapter.


	6. Sansa III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the sake of the story, let’s say the trip from wintwrfell to king’s landing took about a week. And both Sansa and Dyana bonded during that time.

Joffrey grabs Sansa’s hand, quite roughly, and drags her through the throne room. Dyana and Lady tread behind them.

The Iron Throne was bigger in person than the stories Sansa heard. The lighting in the throne room swallowed the seat whole. The sharp edges of the swords that shape it made Sansa tingle.

“That’s where my father, the king, sits,” Joffrey says, giving one of those pretentious smirks Sansa secretly hated.

“And one day you’ll sit there,” Sansa takes her hand back, “With me by your side, as your queen.” She gives him a smile, a forced smile. Joffrey reaches for her hand again. Lady growls softly and Joffrey quickly removes his hand. He made it clear to Sansa and Dyana on the way to King’s Landing that he hated that dog, but he wanted to be an honorable prince and kept his word to Dyana.

“Anyway, I have princely duties to attend to.” Joffrey excuses himself and leaves the throne room.

Sansa turns to see Dyana holding in a laugh. Sansa jokingly rolls her eyes and Dyana lets out a proper laugh. Sansa hooks her arm in Dyana’s.

“You’ve never been to King’s Landing,” Sansa has a twinkle in her eye, “Let me show you around.”

And as the girls exit the throne room, Sansa takes one more look at the throne. “Come on Lady.”

***

The girls stroll arm-in-arm through the village. They watch as the vendors sell fruits shipped from Highgarden. The bakers throwing out burnt bread at the back of their stores. The blacksmiths putting liquid metal into molds. The breeze comforted Sansa, but it did make her a little cold. Dyana rubs Sansa’s arms, to warm her up a little.

“Have you ever tried a cherry tart?” Sansa asks out of the blue.

“I was a servant in your castle, my lady, the sweetest thing I’ve eaten was burnt gingerbread from the kitchen.” Dyana answers, but Sansa was already walking up to the vendor selling pastries. She pulls out five copper coins from her dress pocket and hands them to the baker who then gives her a tart.

“They’re not as good as lemon cakes,” she says while ripping a piece from the edge, “But it is just as delicious.” She plops the piece of tart in her mouth.

“Are you sure about th-” Dyana gets cut off when Sansa stuffs the whole tart in her mouth. Dyana’s eyes widen and she rips her teeth into the tart. The red filling runs down her chin as she swallows the dessert.

“Well?”

“It’s absolutely amazing, Lady Sansa.” Dyana takes another bite of the cherry tart. The excess filling drips down on to the ground. Sansa’s pup licks the drips.

“Maybe Joffrey will give us permission to go to the kitchens,” Sansa wipes Dyana’s messy chin with her sleeves, “I would love to teach you how to bake pastries.”

Dyana smiles. “That sounds amazing, but we have to remember why we’re here.” And she sighs. On the way to King’s Landing, Ned kept reminding them why they were going there.

“If we’re going to take down the Lannisters, we do it from the inside.” That’s what he said.

“I remember exactly what my father told us,” Sansa continues to wipe Dyana’s chin, “But we should have some fun.”

Dyana gently lowered her lady’s hands and stayed silent. They were quiet for a few minutes. The girls sat on the brick wall overlooking Blackwater Bay. They watched as the water moved with the current. Sansa closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Then she had an idea.

“My lady-” Dyana begins but Sansa interrupts her. Again.

“Can we go to one more place, please?” Sansa begged Dyana. She could’ve just commanded her to come since Dyana is still her lady-in-waiting. But she didn’t want to force Dyana. She wanted a friend here in the city of lions.

“One more place,” Dyana sighs, “Prince Joffrey would have my head if you stayed out too late.”

“I wouldn’t let him touch you. Ever.”

Sansa intertwines her hand with Dyana’s and they leave the village.

The girls walked through the small streets of the capital. Sansa’s feet grew tired and she was in pain. Dyana offered to carry her back home. However, Sansa’s stubbornness got the best of her and she continued going, her hand still grasping Dyana’s. Lady got tired as well and Dyana carried her the rest of the way.

Sansa stops walking. They’re in the middle of a cluster of small streets. Stone houses and markets surround them. The smell of freshly baked bread enter their noses. The people walk by them absentmindedly. Sansa notices Dyana looking at two children playing in an alley with a wooden ball. She squeezes Dyana’s hand.

“Look,” Sansa points upwards, “It’s Visenya’s Hill.”

Visenya’s Hill was one of the three hills that lie within King’s Landing. At the base were markets and houses, but at the top was the Great Sept of Baelor. Surrounding it was a white marble plaza. The statue of Baelor stood tall with benevolence. It was a large dome structure with seven crystal towers. Around the entrance doors is a raised marble pulpit. Up on the hill were gardens, large enough to hold hundreds of people.

Although Visenya’s Hill is a site of beauty, Sansa thought Dyana’s longing gaze at the old hill was more fascinating. Sansa noticed the trivial things about Dyana, things she hadn’t noticed before. She noticed that Dyana bites her lip, instead of opening it when she’s in shock. Lady has leaped from her arms, but Dyana didn’t pay any mind to her. Her blue eyes looked supernatural in the sunset. The resting sun made her eyes almost...purple. Dyana’s hair has a crown braid. She had little hairs sticking out of the braid, probably because she still does her own hair. Sansa admired her milky, soft skin.

“You’re beautiful.” Sansa whispered to herself.

“It is beautiful, my lady.” Dyana says back. Sansa shakes her head and remembers why she’s here.

“We could go up if you want,” Sansa suggests while slightly pulling on Dyana’s hand, “I can get us in. It’s not open to the public right now, but I am a guest of King Robert, so they won’t reject us.”

Dyana’s smile fades as she looks at the sunset. “We can’t.”

“Why not?” Sansa furrows her eyebrows.

Before Dyana could answer, Joffrey appears behind him. The gold cloaks of the Kingsguard stand strong behind him.

“GUARDS!” He screeches.

Dyana escapes Sansa’s grip and the guards walk towards Dyana. Not Sansa, Dyana. They rip her from the ground and the largest guard throws her over his shoulder. Sansa pulls on his cloak and screams.

“LET HER GO! LER HER GO!” Sansa bangs her fists on the guard’s armored back. The other cloaks grab her waist and pull her away. Sansa watches Dyana’s kicking feet become smaller while the guards keep her in their grip. Lady attempts to bite at the guard’s feet but to no avail. The guard kicks the dog to the side and she whimpers.

Sansa, now crying, turns to the cocky prince. “Why did you do that?”

“Because my sweet princess,” he takes a step toward her and caresses her cheek, “She was trying to kidnap you.”

 

 


	7. Dyana III

Dyana kicks a rat away in the musky dungeon. The guards had given her a thin, abrasive material for her to wear. They took everything from her, her dress, jewelry, and even her shoes. The rats would come in the night and pick at her fingers and toes when she laid down on the small, rotted cotton bed that the guards gave her to sleep on. She cried every night for three days ever since she was arrested for allegedly planning on kidnapping Sansa.

 _I would never hurt Sansa_ , she thought.

On the fourth day, the guards came to release her. The tallest and biggest of the guards put shackles on her and said in a deep voice, “The king wants to see you now.”

She winces in pain as her blistered, bloodied feet walk on the cold marble floor. They reach the throne room and one of the guards kicks her to the ground in front of King Robert sitting on the Iron Throne. His wretched son sits on the right, smirking. Queen Cersei sits on the left with her head looking to the side, not daring to look at Dyana.

“Make then stop, Your Grace, please!” Sansa pleads to them. She’s sitting next to Joffrey, along with Lord Eddard. Her face is blotted with wet tears. Her eyes are red, probably from rubbing them.

King Robert clears his throat. “You’ve been brought here today to be questioned on the conspiracy to kidnap, and possible murder, Lady Sansa Stark of Winterfell.” Sansa buries her face in her hands.

Dyana wanted to do the same but her hands were still on the ground and the shackles weighed her down.

“I would never harm Lady Sansa.” Dyana managed to get out. Her voice was raspy from drinking hot water and stale bread for days.

“There’s a witness that says he saw you and other townspeople in a tavern, plotting to kidnap Lady Sansa,” King Robert breathes heavily, “Bring in the witness.” The heavy doors open. Dyana couldn’t look behind her but she heard footsteps grow louder as the apparent witness walks up to the throne.

He was a short man. His hair was the color of salt with spots of black. He wears servant scrubs and his shoes had holes in them. She couldn’t see his face, but Dyana knew she had never seen that man in her life.

“State your name.” King Robert demanded.

“Josef, Your Grace.” the man spoke and did an awkward bow.

“Turn around and face the prisoner.”

The man slowly turns around. Dyana could see his face. His left eye was a pearly blue and his right was black. Pure black.

“Is this the woman you saw at the tavern the night you claim people were plotting to kidnap Sansa?”

There was silence. The man gulped and Dyana raised her head to get a better look at him. He was clearly nervous. He rubbed his hands on his pants. His breathing got heavier. And if Dyana’s eyes didn’t betray her, she saw his eyes begin to water.

And then in one swift motion, Josef turns back to the king and gets on his knees. “I’m so so sorry, Your Grace. They threatened to kill my wife.” He sobbed with his head down.

Cersei raises her head.

“What?!” Joffrey yells, “You explicitly stated that this woman planned to kidnap my betrothed.” His face was red with anger.

“The day Lady Sansa arrived to King’s Landing, a group of men approached me in my home and said that they’ll do bad things to my wife unless I reported this woman to the Kingsguard,” Josef weeps into his hands, “Please if you’re gonna kill me, fine, but please don’t harm my wife.”

King Robert took a moment to gather his thoughts. “Guards, seize this man and prepare for his execution tomorrow.”

“Wait!” Dyana speaks, lifting herself off the ground she stands up. “This man can identify the men who are trying to harm Sa- Lady Sansa, beheading him will just put up five steps behind them.”

She turns to Cersei, who’s smirking.

Robert motions the guards to unlock Dyana’s shackles. “Very well, take him to the dungeon, we’ll question him later on today.” The guards drag a weeping Josef to the dungeons.

The queen spoke, “I apologize on behalf of my family for your troubles these past few days. I will _personally_ make sure that you are treated with nothing but respect during your stay at King’s Landing.”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is shorter than the other but I promise you that the next chapter will be veryyyyyy long and romantic <3


	8. Sansa IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i’m giving the gays what they want with this chapter (:

It had been about two weeks since Dyana’s arrest. Sansa would apply oils to Dyana’s bruises on her wrist. The shackles left a mark. And Queen Cersei kept her promise to Dyana. She personally made sure that Dyana had the best of everything - food, wine, gowns, servants, everything. Sansa just wanted to be alone with Dyana, without her future mother-in-law breathing over her shoulder every minute of everyday.

“Where do you want to go today Sansa?” Dyana asked while licking the pastry cream off her fingers. Cersei had the castle servants bring pastries to Dyana in her chambers for breakfast. Sansa ate as well since she spent the night there. She’s been doing that every night, she hated being alone since the assassination attempt. Cersei probably found out which is why there was more pastries on the tray when the servants brought it to Dyana.

“I’m not sure,” Sansa grabbed a pastry, “We haven’t seen Flea Bottom yet.”

Dyana pauses. “The servants say that Flea Bottom is dangerous, especially for a lady.”

“I know but if I’m to be the future queen, I want to help the smallfolk.”

Dyana sighs. “I can’t talk you out of this, can I?”

Sansa smiles and takes a bite of the pastry, “Of course not.”

 

***

 

“Why did Cersei make the guards come with us?” Sansa pouts in the palanquin.

“I think it has to do with her son’s betrothed visiting the most violent place in the city.” Dyana says, casually.

Sansa tightens the strings that hold the upper half of her gown.

The palanquin comes to a halt. The guards announce Sansa and help her out of the carriage. Sansa noticed the biggest guard, he looked familiar...

“My lady,” he spoke, “This is a very perilous place to be, I’ve been assigned to protect you.” He places his unusually large hand on his sword.

“I remember you,” Sansa balls up her fist, “You were the one who took Dyana away from me.” The thought of Dyana being carried away by the goldcloaks still haunts her.

“I was doing my duty as a goldcloak,” he shrugs off her anger, “And you can call me The Mountain.”

Dyana steps out of the palanquin. She immediately gets in between Sansa and the Mountain.

“Not today, Lady Sansa,” she slightly pushes Sansa away from the guard, “You came to Flea Bottom, let’s enjoy our trip before the sun goes down.”

Sansa gives one last menacing look at the Mountain and takes Dyana by the hand and they begin to stroll in the alleys of Flea Bottom.

The alleys were very narrow, the smallfolk were squished together. Mothers were tending to their babes, men were cheating each other in trade, children playing barefoot with rocks the size of their heads. It smelled of blood and mud. The odor of blood will be a scent Sansa never forgets.

A woman was in the corner making this stew - a brown stew. People were passing her copper coins in exchange for some of this brown stew. But before Sansa could slide her a few gold coins she’d been hiding, the Mountain stops her. He places a hand on her stomach, not letting her pass.

“Let me through.” Sansa’s voice cracks a little.

He bends down to whisper in her ear. “You’re about to give that poor woman gold coins for a bowl of browns. It’s a stew made of rat meat and human flesh. And if the smallfolk see you give this woman gold, they’ll slit her throat in her sleep and take the money.”

Sansa pulls away from him and he stands up. She looks at Dyana, there’s a concerning look on her face. She ignores the warning from the Mountain and drops three gold coins in the woman’s cup. She looks up and smiles. Then in one quick motion, dumps the coins in her hands and flees, knocking over the hot bowl of stew that was over the fire. Dyana pulls her back as the boiling stew flows into the cracks of the alley.

“Look!” Dyana points at the wet ground. The stew was thick and brown. There was white, long pieces of material stuck in the stew.

The Mountain picks up the bone and examines it, “I wonder which poor fucker lost his rib.” He tosses it to the side.

The poor smallfolk were staring now. There was a few empty crates stacked up on top of one another. Sansa quickly steps up onto the makeshift platform.

“My lady-” Sansa ignored whatever Dyana was saying.

“People of Flea Bottom,” Sansa spoke with her chin up and her back straight, “I understand the hardships you face when you wake up everyday. I swear to you that when my reign begins, Flea Bottom will see nothing but wealth and prosperity. I promise you that I will have food and money delivered here every week before I return to Winterfell. When I become queen, I will make you love me.”

The crowd gathers around her as she spoke bravely, and queenly. The hope in the eyes of the smallfolk widened as she continued her speech.

Dyana stares in amazement at her lady. Her lady who experienced assassination attempts not too long ago is standing high in the most vile place in King’s Landing. Sansa would be a good queen to her people. A young, and beautiful queen. Not like Cersei.

The speech ended and the smallfolk cheered. The Mountain yanked Sansa down from the platform and carried her over his shoulder to the palanquin.

“LONG LIVE QUEEN SANSA!” One of the smallfolk chanted, the rest followed suit. Sansa pushes herself off the Mountain and falls into a muddy puddle.

“We have to leave now!” The Mountain yells at her. Dyana steps in.

“Don’t yell at her!” She stood in front of him, protecting Sansa.

Sansa collects some mud in her hands and slightly pulls Dyana to the side.

And quicker than the stew cook, Sansa pulls her hand back and throws a mudball at the Mountain. The brown substance splatters on his golden army. Dyana gasps. The smallfolk begin to laugh and make mudballs of their own and throw them at the knights.

Sansa grabs Dyana’s hand. “Let’s go, the smallfolk are having their time with the honorable knights of the Seven Kingdoms.” The sight of the smallfolk attacking the knights with mud was unforgettable. But the girls still ran giggling and happy, for the first time since they left Winterfell.

 

***

It was nearly sunset when they arrived back to the castle. They went through the back door in the kitchen to avoid confrontations with Cersei, or Ned, or anyone really. They were careful not to track dirt on the floor.

“I know where the hot springs are!” Sansa exclaims and Dyana follows her to a part of the castle they never explored before.

“We have to be very quiet, the king’s chambers is not too far from here.” Sansa cautions her and Dyana can’t help but roll her eyes playfully.

Sansa nudges the door open and peeks inside to make sure it was empty. It was. She opens it a bit more, sliding herself and Dyana into the room.

The room was warm. It wasn’t big either. The closeness of it made Sansa comfortable. There was a light steam in the room. The pool wasn’t big, it could probably only fit two or three people. But the water was a gorgeous, ocean blue. There were various oils and creams at the corner along with a full length mirror. The best part of the room was the view. There wasn’t a wall at the far end of the room, just an open view of King’s Landing. The sun set perfectly behind Visenya’s Hill. The orange sky swallowed the city in a warm glow.

Dyana takes a few steps around the pool. She bends down and dips her hand in the pool. It was hot. Dyana liked warmth. Probably why she never cared for the North’s winters. It was the Dornish summers she’s read about that she loved the most.

“Dyana! The water is too hot!” Sansa grabs Dyana’s hand from the water. Sansa searches her hand for burn marks. But she was unburnt.

“That’s...unusual.” Sansa let’s go of Dyana’s hand.

“It is.” Dyana runs her hand gently. The girls waited a few minutes, then Sansa speaks again.

“Turn around.” Sansa smirks, she twirls her gown strings.

Dyana turns around. Sansa loosens her strings and let’s her gown fall on the floor.

“Do you have a favorite color, Dyana?” Sansa breaks the silence as steps into the pool, one foot at a time.

Dyana answered immediately, “Red.”

“You can turn around now,” Sansa says, “And why red?”

Dyana turns around. The water went up to Sansa’s shoulders. Her ginger hair flowed around her.

“Now you turn around, Lady Sansa.”

Sansa turns her back to Dyana. “You didn’t answer my question yet.”

Dyana unties her gown, then her corset. “I have these dreams,” she moves toward the pool and dips her feet in, then her body, “About a house with a red door.”

Sansa turns around, intrigued. “What are they about?”

“I’m not sure, in all honesty. I dream of picking lemons from the lemon trees. They’re so sour and plump. And then there’s the house with the red door. When I close my eyes, I instantly go to that place. I don’t know where it is, it could be in Braavos or Dorne. But wherever it is, it feels like home to me. A real home.”

Sansa furrows her eyebrows, “Do you not like the North?”

“Of course I do,” Dyana reassured her, “But I never considered it home.”

Sansa moves toward her in the water. They’re noses are nearly touching.

Sansa has been feeling bold all day. So her next words come from the adrenaline coursing through her veins, “Can I kiss you, my lady?”

She didn’t know what Dyana was going to say. She herself didn’t know why she asked. But she’s been staring at Dyana’s lips during the whole trip. She wanted to feel her lips on Dyana’s. She wanted to know what it was like kissing another girl. Her first kiss.

Dyana stayed silent and Sansa began to panic. “I-I’m sorry-”

Her apologies were cut off with Dyana placing her lips on Sansa’s. Sansa places her hands on Dyana’s neck as she deepens the kiss. She still tastes like the morning pastries. Their tongues dance together. Sansa drags her lips down Dyana’s chin and neck. But Dyana tilts Sansa’s chin up, to kiss her again.

“How interesting,” the cold voice they heard caused them to pull away. They turn to find the queen. There Cersei stands with a glass of wine in one hand, and a candlestick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> note: sansa and the mountain have tension. and the mountain killed daenerys’ family...remember that


End file.
